On Friday I’m having another reading of my musical about the concentration camp Terezin. (For those of you who’ve joined us recently, I’m the composer of the piece.)
I wonder if spending so much time setting lyrics like
And to the ones who cry compassion,
Whining, “Hate is not the answer!”,
I say humans must hate Jews
The way the surgeon hates the cancer.
is having any sort of deleterious effect on my moral fiber.